Our changing, tragic world
by Republic of Yolossia
Summary: Orphaned twice and having spent his childhood facing a chain of life-threatening experiences, Peter knows he can only cheat death so many times. In the midst of the great war, he takes his two brothers and only friend to explore the world, on a journey riddled with adventures, hope, and some of the kindest people humanity has to offer. But it isn't without its own horrors.
1. April 14th 1912

_Lars- Ladonia_

_Hemming- Wikingland_

_Yrjan- Jamtland_

_Björn- Bjornsocialist _

_Eemeli- Valtio_

_Kuzey- TRNC_

_Stelios- Cyprus_

_Franz- Kugelmugel_

…

_Okay this first chapter may seem very familiar to some people as it used to be a Hanatamago family one-shot that I took down. It will now be continued as a multichapter fic centred around Sealand, Kugelmugel, Bjornsocialist and Valtio taking place at various points during the early 20__th__ century. It will not be written in chronological order though._

_This first chapter is generally unchanged. I've just cleared up some spelling mistakes, improved the writing and sorted out any misgendering (apologies). _

_This is an au created by myself and tumblr user peteradnan, and was written for them. Basically, the four ocs you see here are ocs we created between us to represent the Finnish and Swedish micronations that don't have canon designs: Bjornsocialist, Valtio, Jamtland and Wikingland._

_This fic has the tiniest hints of Sufin, TRNSea and LadKug._

_Warning for death._

…

By the time the six siblings had made it onto the deck, the boat was already tilting, the front and port sides dipping further and further into the water. The huge tear in the hull of the ship was allowing tons of water to gush in, dragging the great ship further into the icy, dark ocean.

But the brothers didn't know that. All they knew was that their parents were still stuck below, patiently waiting their turn to board a lifeboat.

Tino had tried to hold back tears as he pushed Peter forward, telling him to go on ahead without them and get himself and his brothers onto a boat. Peter had obeyed, taking the youngest two, Björn and Eemeli, by the hand and darting off, making sure the other three, Lars, Hemming and Yrjan were right behind him. They ducked between the other steerage passengers, weaving this way and that. The huge maze of corridors confused them; they confused everyone here, and Peter prayed they were going in the right direction. Some of the gates were closed, and other corridors were so crowded with people it was impossible to push past, so it had taken nearly an hour for Peter to keep his promise.

Down there, he'd still not completely known what was happening; only that everyone was getting onto the lifeboats.

Up here on deck though, it was clear that there was something seriously wrong with the Titanic. The people around them were panicking, rushing towards the lifeboats, or huddled in groups talking nervously and crying.

"What's going on?" asked Björn, huddling closer to his brother.

"Oh, nothing," Peter replied, giving the eight year old a reassuring smile and squeezing his hand, "they're just testing out the lifeboats."

"But it's past everyone's bedtime," argued Eemeli, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," Yrjan butted in, ruffling the youngest Oxenstjärna boy's messy hair, "it's because they didn't do one in the morning. The crew decided to do one at night, so people know what to do if the ship ever started sinking at night."

"Oh," Eemeli seemed convinced by the answer, and Peter mouthed a 'thanks' to Yrjan, who just nodded grimly.

"But the ship's unsinkable," Björn protested. Peter ignored him, instead choosing to lead his brothers over to the lifeboat. It was clear now that the Titanic was anything but unsinkable.

"Excuse me," he called to the crowd gathered around lifeboat No. 12, the boat currently being loaded; "I have six children here. Please let us on."

For all their panic and desperation, the crowd made a path for them and Peter ran to the edge of the ship, where a lifeboat full of women and children dangled over the edge.

One of the officers looked down at them, raising an eyebrow.

"The two little ones can board, but the rest of you are too old."

"We're all children," Peter insisted, "I'm not even fourteen yet!"

"You're a young man. Be brave and stay with the other men. It's women and children only," the officer inspected the other brothers, "and how old are the rest of you? Quickly now; we don't have time."

"We're thirteen too," Hemming replied, pointing at himself and Yrjan.

"Lars is only twelve," Peter added, "at least let him on."

"It's still too old, I'm afraid. We have too little room. Maybe if you'd got here earlier."

"We were trapped below earlier!" Peter began to protest.

"It's fine, Pete," Lars gave his brother an affectionate nudge.

"Björn is eight and Eemeli is six," Peter glared at the officer as he spoke, "are they too old as well or can they be saved?"

"They can board," the officer glared back at him, motioning for the two little boys to climb in.

"Go on," Hemming pushed them forward, but Björn shook his head.

"I don't want to leave you," he whined, "I'm scared. You said everything was fine Peter!"

"In that case, we'll start lowering the boat without you," barked the second officer, who was fending off other frantic passengers, told them.

"No! He'll board! Get on Björn," Peter hissed the last part at his brother, pushing the little blond forward; "do as the man says."

"But what about you?" Björn began but Eemeli grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the others, climbing into the rickety boat and ignoring the glares from the other passengers, who just wanted to get as far away from the sinking ship as possible.

"We'll be fine," Peter called as the ship was lowered, "there's nothing wrong anyway." He leaned over the railing to wave at his brothers, who waved back from the wooden bench they were huddled on. "We're getting a boat later, when all the women and children are off the ship, okay? We'll all be back together again!"

He sighed as he led his remaining brothers away from the ship and they stood together in silence. No one wanted to say it, but they all knew there was very little chance of them all meeting up again.

"Where's Franz?" Lars asked, looking around.

"Probably on the first class deck with his parents," Yrjan replied. Franz was Lars' new friend, whom he'd met during his stay on the Titanic. The two boys were close, and had made plans to meet up once they arrived in New York, but now that all seemed like a memory when compared to the raw horror they faced now.

"Kuzey should be here though," Peter commented, scanning the crowd for his own friend, "his family is steerage too."

…

"Everyone else is leaving," Kuzey commented, peering out of his cabin door at the passengers running past, stumbling and crying.

"Well they're silly," Sadik told him from the bunk the old man was sprawled on, bottle of wine in hand, "shut the door and sit with your Baba now." Kuzey nodded and obeyed, crawling into Sadik's bunk and hugging his father tightly, trying to ignore how the man was trembling and how everyone in the room was scarily subdued.

"Are you sure this is best?" Stelios asked in a hushed whisper, sitting on the floor next to them and leaning against the bunk. He took the bottle off of Sadik and took a few sips himself.

"There's no point in even going outside," Muhammad told him, sitting on the bunk above Sadik, swinging his legs over the side, "none of us understand the maps, and we'd only get separated with all the panic. The outcome would be the same whatever we do."

"So much for a happy start," Heracles muttered miserably, sitting next to his younger brother. When it was his turn with the wine bottle, he took a deep swig before handing it back to Sadik. Muhammad didn't drink, and had no intention of starting just because they were dying.

"What's going on?" Kuzey asked, scared of how the adults talked. Even the usual bickering between Sadik and Heracles had subsided, which Kuzey found unnerving.

"Just a little lifeboat drill," Stelios waved a hand, "nothing to worry about, so we're just going to stay here. Who wants to be wandering around the deck at this time anyway?" He gave a nervous laugh, ruffling his half-brother's hair.

"Then why is everything leaning to one side?" Kuzey sat up, glaring at his father.

"Added effects," Sadik shrugged, waving a hand, "amazing how far technology has advanced, no?"

"That ship's in trouble, isn't it?" Kuzey watched as their trunk began sliding across the room, along with most of the furniture. Muhammad jumped down from his bunk, huddling next to Heracles.

Stelios and Sadik just exchanged miserable glances. They'd all made a silent agreement to not tell their youngest member anything to protect him from the petrifying truth.

"I _am_ fourteen, you know." Kuzey glowered at his father and brother, "please don't treat me like a little kid."

Sadik sighed, "fine. Yes, the ship's in trouble. From what I can tell, it's going under. They're putting everyone on the lifeboats now."

"Well why don't we go?" Kuzey looked around at everyone in horror, "if we stay here we'll die!"

"We'll probably die anyway," Stelios told him, "even if we find our way to the deck, they're only putting women and children on the lifeboats. They wouldn't even let you on, even if I begged…"

"And they're only letting the Americans and Europeans on," Muhammad added bitterly, "and the rich ones at that."

"Most of us are from Europe," Kuzey protested.

"The wrong parts," Heracles explained, "who cares about some poor men from the Balkans and Middle East?"

"I failed you," Sadik pulled Kuzey into a tight hug, sobbing onto his shoulder; "I'm a terrible Baba who can't even save his own son!"

"No! It's not your fault," Kuzey felt like a small child again, clinging to his father and wishing with all his heart that Sadik could tell him everything would be fine, like he used to. But they were dying, and no amount of hopeful words and juvenile wishes would change that.

"I'm scared," Stelios told his brother, "this is like a nightmare I once had…" Heracles could give no reply except to squeeze the teen's hand lightly.

"Love you Baba," Kuzey mumbled, burying his face in Sadik's shirt, "love you Stelios. Love you Uncle Muhammad," he paused for a second, "and… I guess… love you, Hera."

"Love you too, pipsqueak."

Kuzey closed his eyes, which burned with silent tears. He hoped his friend, at least, would make it off the ship.

…

"Hey look!" Yrjan pointed upwards, and the four adolescents turned to stare as the sky exploded with red.

"Fireworks?" asked Lars, "at a time like this?"

"Probably to call other boats and let them know we're in trouble," Peter grinned as he explained, "they'll find us and we'll be saved!"

Yrjan and Lars gave small cheers, but Hemming remained silent.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked his brother. None of the children were related, all being orphans Tino and Berwald had rescued from the side streets and back alleys of Stockholm, but they were still a family. And as the oldest, Peter strongly believed it was his duty to protect them when their parents couldn't.

"I can't swim, remember?" Hemming mumbled, flushing red from humiliation.

"You won't need to!" Peter assured him, "we'll be rescued before then. And even if the ship sinks, you'll have your life belt on. You can just float until help comes!"

"I guess…"

"It's too cold," Yrjan spoke up, voice hollow, "we'd be dead within the hour."

"Then you better pray a rescue shows up soon," Peter snapped, "and stop trying to scare everyone."

"We have to face facts though," said Lars.

"No, they're possibilities. We'll be fine." Peter punctuated his sentence with a nod.

The Titanic lurched further into the sea, and people around them screamed, but the four brothers just held each other close. In the distance, they could hear a band playing, but the only noises Peter cared about were the sniffs and snuffles of the siblings he was clinging to.

…

"At least our children will live," Tino smiled, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit in the cold water filling the corridors. Berwald nodded, joining him. There was no one else in this part of the ship, with the other third class passengers either on deck or wandering along different corridors nearer to the surface. Berwald just watched as the seawater slowly began to cover them.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect ye," he mumbled, looking at his hands.

"I've told you before," Tino sighed, leaning against Berwald and rubbing his arm, "I don't need protecting."

Berwald nodded, feeling that quiver in his chest as the back of his eyes burned with the tears starting to fall down his cheeks.

"You know, I'm starting to wish I'd never suggested this whole thing," Tino told him, hands shaking, "then we'd still be safe in Sweden instead of here."

"We all w'nted to go," Berwald replied; "it was a family decision. We w're all 'cited about emigrating and having a fresh start. Don't blame yourself. Only I can do that."

"It's not your fault either," Tino looked around to check they were still alone before giving his partner a quick kiss, "whatever happens to us, our sons will live on, and that gives me peace." The water was up to their necks now, and still rising.

Berwald nodded, kissing Tino's cheek, "they'll make us proud, I c'n feel it."

"They will. That gives me peace. I love you…"

Berwald didn't get a chance to reply.

…

"Baba, I'm scared!" Kuzey was curled up between Sadik and Stelios as the five frienemies huddled together in the corner of the cabin. Water was seeping through the door and the furniture crashed around them.

Stelios and Heracles held each other close, and Stelios was also clutching Kuzey's trembling hand in his. Next to Heracles, huddled Muhammad, with Hera's arm wrapped around him. Both Stelios and Muhammad were muttering prayers in their respective languages, and Heracles was silent, eyes closed to try and stem the flow of tears.

"I am too," Sadik admitted, clutching his son tight and keeping his eyes shut. He couldn't watch it. He couldn't look on as his life crumbled around him and his family perished.

Kuzey meanwhile, just cried out, terror and hopelessness filling him. If his father, the bravest man he knew, just admitted he was terrified, then it really must be all over.

…

"I gave Franz a handkerchief," Lars told everyone, "when we made plans to meet in New York. He gave me one of his ribbons in return." Lars pulled the long, dark piece of satin from his shirt pocket and handed it to Peter. "You'll look after it, won't you, big bro? I trust you with things like this."

Peter nodded, pocketing the item.

By now, water was seeping onto the foredeck, and people were sliding into the inky black sea, piercing screams cutting through the icy air. It was nearly impossible to stand on the slippery deck and those who weren't hanging onto something fell over as the ground beneath their feet disappeared. A few had jumped in, attempting to swim to the lifeboats, or at least away from the ship. The brothers clung to the starboard railing to stop themselves from falling, Peter keeping an arm around Lars whilst Hemming and Yrjan held onto each other for protection.

On the roof of the deckhouse, the officers struggled to ready the final two lifeboats: Collapsibles A and B, which seemed to be stuck. Around them, third class passengers who had only just made it onto the deck screamed and cried, not believing what was happening. Peter was dismayed to find his parents weren't among them.

The ship was sinking further, the back rising upwards as the front sank deeper into the water, making the deck steeper and harder to cling on to. There were no more crew members giving orders here; the steerage passengers had been abandoned to their miserable fate, along with the first and second class passengers on the other decks.

"NO!" Hemming cried as his brother slipped out of his grasp. Yrjan's screams cut through the air as they tumbled across the deck, arms desperately reaching out for something- anything- they could cling to.

"YRJAN!" Hemming shrieked, watching in horror as his brother smashed into a pipe and stopped struggling as they fell into the sea, disappearing among the others floating in the cold waters.

"No! No!" Hemming sobbed into the railing, muttering 'no' over and over to himself.

Peter couldn't form words. He just allowed a crying Lars to weep into his shirt. Everything just didn't seem real anymore; it was an atrocious nightmare. Peter wished he would wake up, but knew this was the horrifying reality they were now facing.

"I'm sorry," Hemming wailed, "my hand slipped and they…" he shook his head, unable to finish.

"Hey it's fine," Peter squeezed his shoulder.

"But it's not!" Hemming screamed, "Yrjan's… they… they're dead, aren't they? And we're next!"

Before Peter could deny it, a wave thundered through the deck, washing them overboard.

…

"Do you think Vatti made it onto a boat?" Franz looked up at his mother questioningly. Elizabeta just sighed, stroking her son's hair. The pair were sitting in a lifeboat, filled to less than half its capacity with other first class women and children.

"Of course. Everyone probably got on a boat."

"But there are still people stuck on the ship!" Franz protested, "I can hear them!"

Elizabeta looked at her hands, trembling slightly; "your father will be fine."

"But he didn't even get to the deck before we left!" Franz looked on hopelessly at the Titanic in the distance, still shining bright as it slowly dipped into the water. "You know how easily he gets lost. We shouldn't have listened to him when he said go on without him. He's probably still wandering around below deck."

He dug his fingers into the side of the boat, watching as one of the funnels broke off as the sound of explosions came from inside the ship. It crashed into the water, nearly drowning out the screams of those already in the sea.

…

"Make it stop," Björn covered his ears in an attempt to drown out the screams coming from the ship whilst Eemeli stared right at it, unable to tear his eyes away. The two brothers hugged each other, scarves wrapped tightly around them to fight the cold, though the fact that they were in their nightgowns meant that warmth would not come to them. In the panic to get everyone ready, Tino had decided that only the older children would have time to get dressed, simply slipping life belts on Björn and Eemeli and ushering them out the door.

"The lights have gone out!" Eemeli cried and Björn looked up to find that the ship's lights had, indeed, flickered off. Everyone in the lifeboat watched in hushed horror as the stern of the ship continued to rise out of the water until it was almost completely vertical.

Five minutes later, it disappeared. Eemeli squeezed his brother's hand as he watched the ship break in two before disappearing under the water. The screams that followed cut through them, reducing Björn to tears as he buried his face in his hands.

"I can't… make it stop…" he sobbed, "Peter… Hemming… Yrjan… Lars… Isi… Papa why?"

"Our big brothers and Isi and Papa will he fine," Eemeli placed his tiny, freezing hands on either side of his brother's face, "they're really tough, remember?"

Björn nodded as the wails and cries and groans continued to sound around them, chilling everyone in the boat and making the hairs on the back of the boys' necks stand up.

…

"Yrjan? Hemming? Lars? Where are you?" Peter peered through the darkness, desperately searching for his siblings. All around him, people struggled in the arctic waters, some swimming away from where the ship had been, others clinging to chairs and other pieces of debris, and some people simply floated there, already too weak and frozen to save themselves.

He remembered being pulled down by the sinking giant, spiralling and twisting until he couldn't tell up from down and his lungs screamed in agony. Lars had been wrenched from his hands almost instantly and he hadn't been holding onto Hemming. He hadn't seen the boy since the wave hit.

Peter began to tread water, still looking out for anyone he knew. Please let them be okay…

"Hemming? Lars?" he tried again.

What was the point in calling for Yrjan?

"Hemming's gone."

Peter turned to find Lars staring at him miserably, holding an empty life belt.

"No," he whispered, before adding, louder, "it can't be his! How can you be sure?"

"I saw him," Lars closed the distance between him and his remaining brother, "the life belt broke and he fell out when we went over. Look." He held the wretched thing up so that Peter could see the broken straps. "He hit the water and didn't come back up."

"Maybe he's elsewhere," Peter tried, "maybe he found something to cling to!"

"He's gone. There's no way he'd have made it. He can't swim, remember?" Lars looked at him sternly; "there's just us left."

"No! I can't lose another piece of my family!"

"_Our_ family," Lars blinked back tears, "don't think I don't miss them too. It's just that I'm accepting it, somehow…"

"Of course," Peter nodded, "we should get out of here. If we stay in the water for too long we'll die too!"

"There's one of those collapsible boats over there," Lars pointed in the direction other passengers were swimming to, "if we can get to that we might be okay."

Peter nodded, beginning to swim in the direction Lars told him to. The two brothers fought the bitter cold and crippling exhaustion as they splashed messily through the water, occasionally sending each other encouraging messages, but for the most part they remained silent, saving what little energy they had for getting to Collapsible lifeboat A. They were too scared too think.

The groans around them grew quieter.

When they eventually pulled themselves onto the boat, whose sides had fallen apart, the sea around them was silent.

"We made it," Peter whispered to Lars, holding his little brother close. They giggled from the emotional overload raging inside them, trying not to think about their parents or brothers. The mourning and agony would hit them later.

Although they'd made it to a boat, the boat they'd dragged themselves into was filled with water, and as the two boys stood up to allow more passengers to climb in, they realised someone would have to rescue them all pretty soon, or they'd perish anyway.

It was only a matter of time.

…

Out of the thirty or so passengers that had huddled together in Collapsible A, only around twelve were still alive when lifeboat 14 finally pulled up beside them.

Not, unfortunately, including Lars.

After an hour or so of standing up to his knees in freezing water, the twelve year old had lost consciousness, falling into the sea and Peter simply didn't have the strength to pull him back in, watching in numb dismay as the blue body of his brother bobbed next to the boat. It made him feel sick to the core, and he struggled to remain standing, but somehow managed.

When he'd finally climbed onto the boat, he stumbled to the edge and threw up in the sea.

…

"I can't find him anywhere," Franz peered over at the crowd of seamen helping with ladders and ropes as yet another lifeboat half-filled with survivors was unloaded.

"Roderich is still probably on one of those boats in the distance," Elizabeta gestured to the other lifeboats, sitting in the calm sea awaiting their turn, "they won't have left an important man like him to fend for himself."

"If you say so…" Franz watched as a mail bag lifted two small children onto the Carpathia's deck and they tumbled out, clustered together and shivering.

"Björn? Eemeli?" he ran over to them, his mother following, "you're alive?"

Eemeli nodded whilst Björn just looked into the distance, wide-eyed and apparently not noticing anything around him.

"Where are the others?" Franz asked, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"On a different boat," Eemeli explained, "the officer-man wouldn't let them on our boat, but they said they'd get a different one."

"Then I guess we should wait together, yes?" Franz suggested, "I don't think Lars would like it if I left his baby brothers by themselves."

Eemeli nodded, taking his hand and playing nervously with his scarf. He allowed Franz to lead him further down the corridor they were in to make room for more passengers being unloaded, but close enough so they could actually see the people coming up.

At first, Eemeli had been hostile to the rich Austrian, whom his brother was so fond of, but now he was too tired and terrified to do anything else but stay by his side. This new ship was strange, and he couldn't find his family anywhere, so this poncy kid would have to do until he found his other brothers.

"Björn?" Franz asked.

"It's gone," the child whispered, rocking back and fourth, "the ship just… sank into the ocean."

"Oh you poor dear," Elizabeta lifted Björn up, stroking his hair soothingly, "shush now, it's all over, everything will be fine."

"But… everyone was screaming," Björn cuddled up to Elizabeta, too shocked to cry, "and then it stopped. Where did the screamers go?"

Elizabeta didn't answer.

…

"There's Peter!" Franz cried, jumping up and down excitedly as he watched his friend ascend the ladder onto the ship.

"Just him?" asked Elizabeta, "I thought we were looking for four boys."

Franz bit his lip nervously, trying to ignore that icy feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. The others would've made it too, right?

_Lars wouldn't do this to me,_ he reasoned.

"Peter!" When the boy was finally on the deck, Franz bounded over to him, Eemeli and Björn darting ahead and pulling their brother into a crushing hug.

"You're safe!" Eemeli cried.

"Yes… I guess," Peter avoided their gazes.

"Kirkland?" Franz began.

"Franz," Peter blinked in surprise, "you made it then?"

"Of course," Franz paused before speaking again, "where is…"

"Lars," Peter finished, "he died. He wasn't allowed in the lifeboat. None of us were, and," he choked out a sob, covering his mouth with his hand, "everyone… gone. The sea took them." He shook his head as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I couldn't save them…"

"I'm sorry," Franz felt like he'd been tied to an anchor and thrown overboard. He couldn't breathe, or think. There was no way Lars could be dead. They were supposed to meet again in New York!

He pulled out the handkerchief his beloved friend had given him, staring down at it as tears of his own began to form.

First his father, now Lars. It was too much.

This was some horrible nightmare he couldn't escape from and he wanted to go back in time, stop his parents from deciding on a family holiday and not have to deal with this terror.

But he'd never have met Lars then.

Though that probably would've been for the best.

Franz shook his head. There was no way he could ever regret meeting Lars, not if he lived for a thousand years in agony.

"Oh," Peter looked at the cloth with dull eyes, pulling a ribbon out of his pocket, "I nearly forgot. He asked me to give you this."

Franz took the ribbon back, thanking Peter.

The boy just smiled weakly before passing out.

…

**Oh dear god what have I done? Sorry about this.**


	2. Three days later

_Okay second chapter._

_Like future chapters, it's shorter than the first chapter, as that was originally written as a stand-alone fic._

…

This should've been a moment the family shared together.

As Peter held his brothers' hands and looked up at the huge form of the Statue of Liberty, arm raised proudly and carrying her flame high above her head, he wondered what it would have been like with his whole family, still alive and arriving on the biggest ship in the world in triumph.

Björn and Eemeli would have been shouting excitedly and jumping about instead of standing subdued by his side. Yrjan would've probably pushed forward through the crowd to get a better view, possibly dragging Peter behind them, shouting that they would be rich and famous one day. Lars and Hemming might have stood together in stunned silence, probably making plans to visit the statue sometime. And behind them would be their parents, joyful and filled with relief. Isi would be laughing. Papa would be silent as usual, though his eyes would be smiling. They would have known how to get through immigration and buy an apartment and get jobs for themselves, instead of Peter panicking because he was alone and had no idea how to sort out those things.

There would be no misery and mourning, standing in the rain and blinded by lightening mixed with the camera flashes of hundreds of reporters trying to photograph the aftermath of the biggest sea disaster to date.

He looked down to see Björn was crying.

"I miss them," he sniffed. Peter just nodded, squeezing his hand.

What exactly was he supposed to do now? He had two tiny children to look after, no money, no possessions, and no family to help him and make all the adult decisions. Even though he was the oldest, he still didn't know how to manage this level of responsibility.

He was starting to wonder if they actually had a future.

No, there had to be a way! Peter knew he had to be strong for his brothers; he'd spent the past three days curled up in the corner of the Carpathia's third class dining room, dead inside and torn by grief, but now he had to become a responsible adult for Björn and Eemeli. He couldn't let them die too!

But what could they do? Was it possible to receive charity here? He certainly wasn't borrowing off of young Edelstein; that would hurt his pride too much. Besides, he hadn't seen Franz and his mother since he'd fainted, waking up in the third class dining room as a doctor patched up his frozen legs. Even now, he still walked with a limp.

Still, they'd given the two little ones a blanket and told them to go to the hotel they'd be staying at if they needed help. Of course, Peter wasn't going to take them up on their offer. They had enough problems without him sponging off them, like mourning Mr Edelstein's death. Roderich must have gone down with the ship, as he wasn't in any of the lifeboats.

Just like his parents. Just like Yrjan, Hemming and Lars. And just like Kuzey and his family.

He still couldn't fully understand how so many lives could be torn apart just like that.

Maybe the best thing to do was leave his brothers in an orphanage, just until he got a job and apartment.

Maybe he wouldn't come back for them. They might get adopted by someone who could look after them properly. Someone who wasn't completely falling apart.

Eemeli clutched his hand tighter; even he was starting to cry.

"I don't want to live in America anymore," was all he said.

…

"Is this not nice and cosy?" Peter asked.

Björn and Eemeli nodded along sceptically, snuggled together under a blanket in a creaky, narrow bed.

The hostel room was filled with similar beds and similar people: Titanic survivors with nothing to their name and the little they originally had now lying at the bottom of the ocean. Most were young men that had been in third class, immigrants coming to New York to work. A few had family back home- wherever home was- who were currently scanning newspapers and notice boards at names, praying their husbands, fathers, sons or brothers were among the list of survivors. Others were completely alone, just grateful to have survived and hoping for a fresh start.

And a few wretched souls had lost far more than their worldly possessions that night.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Björn's fine, soft hair as the other slowly closed his eyes.

"If you say so," Eemeli replied flatly, clinging to Björn.

"Is this our new home?" Björn asked.

"Of course not!" Peter exclaimed; "this is just temporary, until we find a place to live."

"Like a hotel?" Eemeli looked up.

"Yeah. Just like a hotel."

"So where will we live then?"

"Who knows?" Peter shrugged, "probably a little apartment. I have to get a job first though."

"But we'll stick together, right?" Björn asked, giving a hopeful smile.

Peter couldn't reply.

"Big brother?" Eemeli looked at him sternly.

"I'm… I'm afraid I cannot look after you."

"What do you mean?" Björn sat up, "did we do something wrong?"

"Oh of course not!" Peter pulled his brothers into a hug. "It's just… we have no money or home. I can't even provide for myself, let alone you two and you deserve so much better. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to an orphanage. You'll receive food and shelter there."

"But we wanna stay with you," said Björn, face crumpling, "please don't leave us."

"It's just temporary," Peter lied, "until I get things together."

"So what will you do?"

"Get a job, of course. And save up for a place to live."

"And then we can live with you?" Eemeli offered

"Yes, of course."

"What will our apartment look like?" asked Björn.

"Erm, I don't know yet," Peter paused, "but it'll probably be small. And cosy. I'll sew some pretty curtains for the windows and knits lots of blankets for the bed, like how Papa showed me to. And you two can go to school and learn to read and write."

The two little boys looked at him closely and smiled, waiting for him to continue.

"Erm, well there'd be a fireplace, with a roaring fire, for when it gets cold in winter," he though for a moment, "and it would be high up so you could look out the window at the city and all the people walking about. And maybe we could get a dog."

"I'd like a dog," Eemeli smiled.

"Well we'll definitely get one, a little one you can play with," Peter kissed their foreheads, "now, it's late and you need to get up early tomorrow so I can take you to the orphanage."

…

The next morning, Peter sat his brothers down on the top step of a tall, old, but cosy-looking building. He wrapped a blanket around their shoulders and told them to be good, that he'd be back soon and that they needed to wait for one of the nuns to answer the door and take them in. He gave them a kiss each on their foreheads, Björn's tears dampening his chin though the little boy tried to put on a brave face. Eemeli clutched his brother's shirt and wailed, begging him not to leave, but Peter was adamant. The child just settled for hugging Björn tightly, sniffing and glaring at Peter like he was betraying them. He felt like he _was_ betraying them, and his parents and siblings too.

This felt wrong, but Peter didn't want to think of the alternative. At least here they could get proper care and attention. If they stayed with him they'd be homeless, and probably get stuck caring for him when the misery finally claimed his mind. He thought it would any minute now.

"I'll be back soon!" the promise was empty and false, but it was all he could give. "Things will get better, I promise!"

He turned away, ignoring their sobs and determined to walk out of their lives forever.


End file.
